


Common Thread

by KJGooding



Series: Post-Canon Trill Revival [6]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Advice, Alien Culture, Canon Autistic Character, Epistolary, F/F, F/M, Gen, Healing, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Multi, Other, Trauma, Unconventional Families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22165423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KJGooding/pseuds/KJGooding
Summary: Ezri and Elim begin exchanging communiques, sharing their unfortunate areas of expertise - rebuilding an entire culture, and rebuilding one’s sense of self.
Relationships: Ezri Dax/Lenara Kahn, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak/Kelas Parmak, Julian Bashir/Ezri Dax
Series: Post-Canon Trill Revival [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1251704
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	Common Thread

When they arrived home from their Teplan excursion, Julian’s first order of business was attending to Kelas, who had remained at home for fear of agitating their condition. Elim had spent the whole of the trip in awe of his gentility, and it seemed there was no end in sight.

“How was your shed?” Julian asked, bringing his companion a clean blanket from the warming cabinet they kept in the common room. 

Kelas was seated on one of the lounges, and huddled happily into the blanket as Julian wrapped it around their shoulders. 

“Surprisingly pleasant, if a bit lonely,” they said. “I’m happy to see all of you back so soon.”

Julian kissed their forehead ridge, and then excused himself to the side kitchen. 

“Tea?” he asked, already setting the temperature on the kettle. “Anyway, I think you’ll like the feeling of the leaves on your skin. The antioxidants in green tea have soothing properties.”

“Mmm,” Kelas agreed. “I’m always… charmed… to see your forays into traditional medicine.”

“It has its merits,” Julian said, face obscured behind the clear kettle, as he filled it to a precise mark with water from a ration packet. 

Satisfied with proceedings, Elim came into the sitting area, with Rali at his side. He took the cushion beside Kelas, and waited for Rali to make her own decision. She climbed up into the space between them, staring at Kelas and touching their hair gently in greeting. Grinning, Kelas unwrapped it from the twist they kept it in, up and out of the way, letting it fall over their shoulders for Rali to stroke as she pleased. Their sensitive new scales were safe beneath cover of the blanket.

“And how was this little star of yours?” Kelas called out to Julian, in a soft voice. 

“Very good,” said Julian. “There was one incident with some of the Teplan children… they aren’t as interested in face paint, I’m afraid… but other than that, she seemed to enjoy herself. Oh! Why don’t you tell them about the trip home, Elim? That was such a lovely moment.”

With their interest well and truly piqued, Kelas peered at him in wait. 

“Ah, yes,” Elim began. “This _little star_ placed a high honor on me, one I _hope_ I am capable of upholding.”

“I know how committed you’ve been to improving your decency, in recent years,” Kelas said, in a slight teasing voice. “Although I think it’s always existed at an acceptable level.”

“We were conversing, and I was given the honorary surname of ‘Dax.’”

“I see,” Kelas sounded fascinated. 

“That is quite the reputation to carry, especially without the accompanying symbiont to keep it relevant.”

Julian came in with a tray, which he had thoughtfully stocked with three brimming teacups and a packet of jam-filled biscuits. He set this on the table and joined the others on their lounge seat, filling a cup to pass to each of his partners. The biscuits were opened and distributed to everyone, with two for Rali. 

“She was referring to you, by association, as a good parent,” Julian reminded him of the important fact he had omitted, perhaps out of fear. 

And in that same moment, to stifle the same fear, Julian touched Elim’s forearm. 

“She doesn’t throw words like that around lightly. Or any words at all, really.”

“That’s right,” Kelas observed, between sips of their tea. “A welcome change from some of the Cardassians I’ve spent time with, of any age. Isn’t she intriguing, Elim?”

“I… try not to see her as a subject of study,” Elim said. “But I know you mean no offense to anyone. Well... perhaps a Cardassian or two.”

“Present company excluded.”

Julian moved his hand down from Elim’s forearm to his knee, and squeezed gently. At the same time, Julian leaned back into the plush embrace of the cushion, and propped his feet up on the table. 

“Thank you,” he said, and that was all. 

They finished their tea in relative silence. It was comfortable, companionable, but Elim could not get the echoes of that final phrase out of his head. 

He stood and excused himself to his office, upstairs and out of the way. 

_My Dear Captain Tigan,_

_I can hardly claim to be writing you today in my own best interest. I like to think, by now, I can place the needs of others at the heart of my motivations. As I sit here now, dictating this message, Rali is on the lower floor with her father and Doctor Parmak, sharing a light meal. Nothing is the matter, as far as I can tell, and I suppose that is why I am so interested in contacting you._

_Both Julian and Rali herself have expressed some… positive appraisals of my skills as a parental figure. It does not exactly make me feel comfortable, despite the honor I am sure the act must bring. In any case, and regardless of the temporary nature of Rali’s residence with us on Cardassia, I want to ensure I can communicate with her in a way that reciprocates this honor._

_Now, you tell me, is this selfishness, or that equally insufferable Cardassian sense of duty?_

_I am afraid my knowledge of Dax’s previous hosts is somewhat limited, and when Rali chooses to speak, it is in a series of references to them, which I simply do not understand. I can place some into context, of course, and Julian shares what knowledge he can, but surely I should seek to deepen the connection Rali is trying so earnestly to make with me? I fear ignoring her, or perpetuating any idea which might make her feel… isolated, cut off. I am sure you will understand the reasoning behind my hesitation, without needing further detail from my own past, thank you._

_Of course, I know you have more than your fair share of difficulties on your home-world, at this time. If I may provide any assistance with this, in exchange..._

_I would appreciate any advice you can give, regarding the best ways for Rali and I to interact. As I’ve said, I have no desire to replace you or usurp your importance in her life, but as long as she is here I want her to feel comfortable, safe, and listened to._

_Garak_

***

When Ezri first received notification of a communique, she was leading a heavily-guarded perimeter tour of the ancestral Trill pools. They had recently been emptied of symbionts - any Disjoined creatures were kept in vaults similar to Dax’s, for their own safety and self-reliance - and the Federation was ensuring the area was well fortified before beginning the next phase of their reconstruction. Julian had mentioned his trip to the Teplan homeworld to her before he left, making excited mentions of the ‘handbook’ and she could not help but guess his process was nearly identical to this one. But, with Julian spearheading anything, she expected the Teplans - and indeed the Cardassians - were kept in much greater comfort than the Federation could offer her planet, now. 

It sent little jealous pangs through her heart, alternately drowned out by the determined beat driving her forward, as she cursed the Federation for the man they had cast out. The man she had cast out, too, in a way. 

So, she ignored the notification until she had finished checking the depth and pH balance of the rehabilitation pool and returned home. Lenara was still hard at work with the Science Ministry, running further tests on the caves themselves, and Ezri was careful to leave Lenara’s half of the dinner she ordered nice and warm beneath a heat lamp in the kitchen. 

She read the letter twice. Once, with conflicted tears in her eyes, and the second time after they had fallen, with the detached professionalism of a captain and a counselor. Dax was not inside her, anymore, but she held its memories dearly. In fact, Dax did much of its work these days from Kronos, and _it_ never thought to send her communiques, it--

It didn’t matter. She kept her screen open to reply, struggling to put the words together even after Lenara came home and asked if she was feeling well. 

Lenara drew her own chair into Ezri’s office, and sat down to eat her dinner after patting Ezri’s shoulder encouragingly. 

“Rali’s talking,” Ezri said, at last. 

“To them, not to you,” Lenara filled in the rest of the thought, and Ezri hated how envious she felt in that moment. “But that gives _you and I_ a chance to get to know each other, and you know that she wouldn’t—”

“She wouldn’t be safe here. Not until the Symbiosis Commission is completely reformatted, and who knows when that’ll be.”

“You do,” Lenara assured. “ _You do._ You know from your vision, you _know_ that time will come.”

“I don’t see why the Federation keeps dragging their feet,” Ezri grumbled. “They _finally_ start listening to what Julian and I have been saying for _years_ about symbionts needing their own rights, and now that his name isn’t on it… it’s like… they _believe_ it now, but no one is there pushing them to act on it. It’s like they really were afraid of him being in the public eye, so who cares what _I_ say about it.”

“I care, and I know you’ll think of something. Why don’t you write something nice for your _taya_ on Cardassia, and see if that makes you feel better?”

Ezri took a deep breath and agreed.

“Thank you,” she said. “I _should_ be better than this at handling stress, I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.”

“It’s no trouble,” Lenara said warmly. “I’ll be in the bedroom if you need anything.”

Ezri nodded and smiled at her, and did not speak again until she had engaged the microphone on her computer. 

_Garak,_

_We definitely have been busy. Lots of Federation meetings and rearranging the provisional government. I’m kind of glad I missed that whole process with Bajor, because what a mess. I bet you’re glad they pulled out of Cardassia too, huh? Of course you are, what am I saying._

_I guess you could say I have some of Dax’s impulses back again, and a little of that hesitation I had when I first Joined. I’ll try to stay on topic for you._

_I am so happy to hear Rali is adjusting well, and feeling comfortable enough to talk to you! That’s interesting that she uses information from Dax to do it, I mean she knows you aren’t a Trill… It’s not uncommon for Joined Trill to do that, though. I still do it. It feels like you’re making this nice shorthand reference, but no one else in the room gets it, and it ends up taking even longer to explain. So you’re definitely not alone on that one. Like Julian would remind me of one of Dax’s-past-hosts’-spouses sometimes, and he wouldn’t have any idea that I was trying to compliment him, because I’d get so lost in the memory. It’s silly, isn’t it?_

_But if that’s how Rali is trying to initiate a conversation, I have… so much respect for you wanting to, um, ‘learn her language,’ so to speak. There’s nothing wrong with trying to teach her your language in return, too. She’s always been really invested in the symbionts - I know Julian thinks it’s something to do with Dax being so loose during my pregnancy, it was probably able to share a lot more information with her than other Trill babies get in the womb. But then again, um… we don’t really know anything about other hybrid-Trill children, I don’t think any others exist, actually - so… what was I saying?_

_Right, she gets kind of hung up on the symbionts, and there’s nothing wrong with you redirecting the conversation every so often. She still carries around that plush you made her, right? You can integrate that into almost any activity you’re doing. Or maybe you could let her watch you make another toy just like it? Honestly I think that’s why she’s so comfortable with Julian even though he isn’t Joined… she got to see him work on that first artificial symbiont, and she knows he’s taken care of Dax when it was out on its own._

_She’s not any less intelligent than she should be, for her age. I know you know that, but I get that it’s weird for you to adjust to, coming from such a talkative culture. That’s fine. She might start adjusting to that if she spends time with you and your neighbors, or Julian’s students, or something. She’s incredibly empathetic, and I’m sure she’ll try her absolute best to meet you halfway. She’s… wanting to introduce you to the way she sees the world._

_And in my experience - or in Dax’s, a little bit, too - that’s the best thing about interacting with new alien races. We’re all seeing the same things, but differently, and the more you try to balance that… the more you try to accommodate and share your own hardships when the time comes… I just think that’s beautiful._

_Thank you so,_ **_so_ ** _much for writing to me today. I’m going to send some pictures along too, for Rali. And then I think I’ll write to Dax. Tell Julian and Kelas ‘hi’ from me, would you?_

_Ezri_

***

It was just before daybreak when the reply came through. 

Elim was teaching himself the habit of remaining in bed even after he had woken up, moving away from sheer practicality and into the simple indulgences he was told these later years of his life should require. Kelas did not always sleep in the same bed with him - Elim could not shake the much older habit of feeling _crowded_ \- but Julian often did. He had always been thin, and Elim hardly noticed his presence at all, unless Julian chose to hold onto him while he slept. His grip was respectful and loose, and his breath was reassuring and warm, so Elim never argued, beyond a few playful exchanges here and there, for appearances. 

Elim’s padd was kept in a drawer on his bedside table, and when it chirped, he reached out blindly to remedy the situation. It was a relief to see such a sudden reply from Ezri, rather than the device’s usual cries for a new power-cell.

Even more to Elim’s relief was the fact it was difficult to wake Julian once he was in a deep sleep - quite a fortunate trait for him to have when subjected to long and constantly rotating shifts of work. Elim took it as a testament to the hospitality he provided, so much nicer than the alarms Julian had been forced to install in his cabin on Deep Space Nine for emergencies. Now, Julian was sleeping contently, sighing against Elim’s temple just forcefully enough to tickle the skin beneath parted headfeathers. Elim thought all of this was achingly, achingly beautiful. 

The reading material was not half bad either, he thought, as he finished with it and set it down on his chest in favor of plunging his hands down beneath the blankets, in search of Julian’s. 

This was the best way to awaken him, greeting the morning with a soft smile and his fingers tapping happily along Garak’s flared knuckle ridges. 

“Mmm-morning,” Julian’s lips blurred the word against Garak’s temple. “Sleep well?”

“Much better than I expected to,” Elim replied, never one to turn down obfuscation. 

“Did I interrupt your reading?” Julian asked, nodding toward the disused padd. 

“Not at all. It’s a letter from Captain Tigan, a simple but _inspiring_ read.”

“Oh… I didn’t know the two of you kept in touch.”

“I’ve only recently initiated the ‘ _touch_ ,’ as you say, my dear. I wanted to understand how to best communicate with Miss T-- with _Rali_.”

Julian paused for a moment, on the verge of looking perplexed. 

“Are my methods lacking?” he asked, touching his chest to play at being offended, as Elim himself often did. 

“No, dear. But surely you can appreciate my desire to pursue every available option.”

“And what did she suggest?”

“The two of you share much of the same ideology,” Elim sounded pleased, as indeed he was beginning to share it, too. “But her primary suggestion was for me to integrate what _I_ am accustomed to, in an appeal to Rali’s empathy, to see whether or not she will adapt for me as I have for her.”

“I see,” said Julian.

“You would prefer solely to accommodate her?”

“Of course I would, as long as it’s practical. And there’s nothing in her…” he was reluctant to use the word: “ _diagnosis_ which can’t _easily_ be accommodated, with medical technology and social programs what they are, in this day and age. Even Cardassia is a much more forgiving place now than it was twenty years ago. I don’t see any reason to make her do anything she isn’t ready for.”

“I understand your hesitation. But if I may ask… I was unaware you had made any formal decisions, regarding a diagnosis? Surely a healthy child would not _need_ one, by definition?”

“Generally, you’re right, and that’s why I _haven’t_. If she were fully human, I imagine she’d be placed on the autism spectrum - and that isn’t an _illness_. But then again, if she were fully Trill, she might not have any trouble reconciling her thoughts in symbiotic telepathy, instead of struggling to listen and use her voice to express the same ideas. Or perhaps there _would_ be some underlying physical deformity in her symbiotic nerve system, but that’s all speculation. The fact is she’s half of each, and that makes using terminology developed by one race or the other woefully inadequate, by its very nature.”

“Well said, my dear,” Elim pressed his forehead in closer to Julian’s, in demonstration of his affection. “How fortunate for her, then, to have a set of parents so uniquely equipped to prepare her for any physical or mental bouts of insufficience.”

“Mmm. And what will your role be, then, _dear_?”

“Mine? I will make her feel heard.”

***

_Captain--_

_Julian and I have discussed your letter, and I am making conversations with Rali a priority. I have spent the afternoon sorting through a chest of scrap fabrics in search of something suitable with which to duplicate my original plush toy design, and I have narrowed it down to several elaborately-embellished pieces which I will show to Rali for final arbitration._

_She will, of course, also begin attending school here shortly. Julian is understandably nervous about this, and whether she will perform to the standards she is capable of, but as I am a new believer in fate and fortune, I cannot help but think she was placed here to make better listeners of all of us, a race who has talked its way into wars and atrocities countless times. A place where softness and quiet reflection could form a vital counterpoint to constant argument, whether for posturing or genuine disagreement. I must thank you again for entrusting her to us in what is a unique, vulnerable time in her life._

_On such a topic, how are you finding yourselves these days, between Federation meddling and your own rugged self-sufficiency? I will tell you, Captain, how much you have grown and come into your own strength since the first time I met you._

_I imagine your cultural rebirth is a difficult one, but if your people are anything like_ **_you_ ** _are, it will be worthwhile in the end. I have always learned that any pain given in service is in fact a_ **_privilege_ ** _. I cannot impose the same definition on your people, of course, but perhaps you will find it heartening as you consider my words._

_I digress. Please take some joy and strength in knowing your daughter exists, even apart from you, in your image, and I look forward to getting to know her, just as I have you._

_Garak_

***

_Garak--_

_I appreciate the compliments, but I’m finding them more and more untrue - on a larger scale - on a daily basis. I am so glad I wasn’t raised on this planet, and I won’t be raising my own child here anytime soon. Not until things have changed dramatically._

_There is no_ **_strength_ ** _here. No self-sufficiency. I underestimated how deeply the aspirations of codependency ran, with Joining and Symbiosis the only goals anyone has had in centuries. I’ve talked a lot with Lenara - we’re comfortable together, doing well, if you were wondering - but it’s… freeing, to have the memories from our symbionts to tie us together, without the symbionts themselves there to drive our actions. There was something unnatural about that, I think. Not that I would call them purely parasitic, but-- it doesn’t matter. I’ll explain later._

 _I have talked closely with everyone on my provisional council, and none of them - barring Lieutenant Moller, the woman you met - can answer my most basic questions. I ask what they wanted to be when they were growing up, and they all say ‘Joined.’ There is so little self identity, I can understand why Julian needed to replace the symbionts’ memories inside their ex-hosts to keep them functioning. And for a while there, I felt terrible too! I really did. I didn’t have any part of Dax with me, so that was probably part of it, but I felt like_ **_I_ ** _was ruining these people and denying them a privilege they had enjoyed for thousands of years. But then I realized that’s not the case. These are_ **_my_ ** _people, and I want to bring them back to Symbiosis in a healthier way. It’s absolutely ridiculous to go into a partnership one-sided like that. I mean, sure, a lot of the hosts would study these highly specialized fields, but that was only so they had something appealing to offer their symbiont, something that would beat out the competition when it came time to Join._

_I’m sure it began with good intentions, and even a few very successful Joinings, but recently it became too competitive. Prospective hosts adhered to a strict set of rules and lost their own personalities in the process. While, at the same time, we lost consideration for the symbionts’ feelings and perspectives, and forced them into repeated Joinings without time to recuperate in between. So… that all backfired spectacularly._

_I know, you know all this. I’m sorry to ramble. Actually, I… this is reminding me a little bit of my vision with Sisko, so I might keep this to use in my speech. I’m set to give one at the end of the month before opening up group counseling sessions. I bet those would go over well on Cardassia, wouldn’t they? Maybe I’ll come by on a circuit some time, if this goes well._

_Oh, so what I was getting to… having the mechanical symbionts is great. I just need to show everyone how to use them, how to let the internal memory show them_ **_clearly_ ** _what memories belonged to what host, so they can build their own identity! I don’t have a problem with them finding inspiration in something a past host might have enjoyed - I know you value some elements from your planet’s history, and that’s great! - but I want them to learn how to feel like themselves. I mean, before I Joined, I was a little reckless. Defiant, mouthy at times. But I knew what I wanted to be! The answer changed a hundred times, but it was always there! I wanted to be a painter like my brother, then I wanted to be a chef, then I wanted to work with animals… I never wanted to be Joined._

 _Do you remember, when you were young, what you wanted to be? I’m sure_ **_you_ ** _, as complex and devoted as you are, could come up with an answer beyond just ‘subservient to the State.’ That’s what I need to achieve here. Tell me how to do that. I need that piece before I can do my job, and none of these people are capable of giving it to me. I just want to help them. I know none of them had a Prophetic vision like I did, but they must have_ **_something_ ** _inside they can give me. How do I spark that memory?_

 _And Rali…_ **_Rali_ ** _. I think she’ll adjust well to school there, if it involves a lot of listening like I assume it does. That’s how Cardassian curriculum goes, right? A few years of intense listening before you’re expected to start monologuing back? I read that somewhere, once. But she should be good at that, and she has a good memory, fine comprehension. I think she needs the social aspect more than anything, and I’m so happy Julian is on board with it. Part of me - the Audrid Dax part - was considering teaching her at home, and I know Julian would find a way to clear his schedule for that, but I would rather she spend time with others her own age. Promise me you won’t let him worry, if she doesn’t talk to her classmates right away. And promise me, also, that you will help her find what she wants to be when she gets older. Make sure she has something clear in mind, even if it changes every single day._

_Thank you, from the bottom of my heart._

_Ezri_

_***_

_My Dearest Captain--_

_Believe me, I share your frustration, but I continue to be honored by your requests for my_ **_help_ ** _. While my people obviously lack your symbiotic abilities, I found the population all staunchly united against our cause, then fracturing into segments, then finding their way back together again. Yours will do the same, I am certain._

 _As for your question, how astute! Yes. Before I considered swearing my life away to the State, I wanted to be a gardener. Has Julian ever mentioned that to you? It is a hobby I sometimes have a chance to indulge in, now. With Doctor Parmak’s guidance, I am beginning to explore herbs and spices, as opposed to the floriculture I was primarily interested in as a younger man. But yes, I do return to the answer I would have given decades ago, and I see how this might be a challenge for adults on your planet who_ **_had_ ** _no clear goals at the time of their childhood. And you think_ **_I_ ** _might be the piece this puzzle of yours is missing? Fortunately I enjoy a challenge._

_I only wish I could offer a concise answer, a guide-book with steps and phases like Julian would use. I hope you will appreciate that Julian, himself, seems to be the only answer I can give._

_It is true I had some notion of life beyond the State even as a young man - this was originally inspired by my father - not Tain, but the man who actually raised me. The idea was not revived until Julian and I were first acquainted. I found him to be an irritating obstacle, at the time. I was striving to return home, to usefulness, and I was challenged by his perspective at every possible turn. He would not let me suffer even when I felt I deserved it, and he would even return to Cardassia on my behalf to argue this case. I wished he would be quiet and leave me to take the path I was already so far down, but the more he did for me, the more I realized there was some honor in his position._

_As far as applying this to your situation, I know you cannot copy this exact strategy. From what I understand, you collected artifacts from your past hosts and their families…? You may find it best to lead by example, and encourage others to explore histories that are partially their own. I find relation does not matter as much as we think it does, and one can draw inspiration from whatever positive sources are close to them._

_I hope you will not mind I consider Rali in the same way._

_Garak_

He did not send his letter immediately after finishing it. In fact, rather than send a digital copy at all, he chose to have the replicator make a copy of it on paper, which he folded and encapsulated in a climate-controlled box. The words would accompany a gift - he felt a small arrangement of flowers was fitting - which he hoped would find Ezri well. Transport ships left from Cardassia frequently during this booming reconstructive period, and he booked passage for his box all the way to Trill; it would take less than a week of careful transfers. 

Over the course of those waiting days, he occupied himself with crafting a second plush symbiont. Rali sat on the floor and watched him coax masterful control out of a dozen malfunctioning instruments, all affected by the power surges and swirling dust. He moved from the tabletop machine to a series of autosutures and fabric cutters, frequently asking Rali’s opinion of his work. 

She was quiet but never uninvolved. She selected a sparkling blue fabric for the trim, and gasped with delight when Elim offered her the chance to help him apply it. 

When Julian came in to check on them - bringing a tray of sandwiches as helpful pretense - Elim’s hand was supporting the weight of the top of a large suture, while Rali’s hand guided the base of it. The heavier upper half housed a bay of ribbon, unraveling and pressing itself into the patterns Rali wanted, with Elim helping her to engage the trigger in time to draw each spot. 

He set the tray down and divided out three portions onto separate plates, taking a bite from his own and leaving the others undisturbed for the time being. Elim and Rali could work a little longer without _requiring_ a break for food. He had put his usual care into selecting nutritious ingredients from several planetary cuisines - blending them into a pate and spreading them safely between thick pieces of bread, keeping any grease from spoiling the fingers of his two family members, hard at work on their craft.

“That’s a lovely Dax, sweetheart,” he observed, noticing some of the spots as she turned it over to start on the other side. 

“It’s _Kahn_ ,” Rali corrected. “This is how it looked in the tank.”

Seeming satisfied, she set down the suture and showed the finished spots to her father again, not for approval but for illustration. 

“Well, maybe my memory isn’t as good as I thought,” Julian conceded. “I didn’t think it was blue.”

“ _I_ like the blue,” Rali decided. “But the spots are the same.”

“I’m sure they are,” Julian agreed, keeping the question to himself: _Were they, really?_

“I’m afraid I didn’t get a very thorough look,” Elim added, as if in perfect response to Julian’s thoughts. “Cardassian eidetic memory - when the subject is properly trained to use it - is _very_ precise.”

“Well, so’s mine,” Julian shrugged, feeling more curious than slighted. “I’ll get a picture of Kahn from some of my reference files. Don’t forget to eat, you two.”

***

Ezri’s week was overflowing with activity, occupying early mornings and late nights alike. Dax made passage back from Kronos, in time for Ezri’s speech. She had reached out to it, like a pleading friend, and found her loneliness reciprocated - a problem which conveniently solved itself when Ezri saw one of her Aides approaching her front-door-camera with the symbiont’s tank in tow. 

Many elements of her speech were familiar - according to the Prophetic vision - but some felt different. Of course, Rali was not present, but Dax and Kahn and Lenara all offered their support from behind the podium. The audience was enraptured - quiet and curious - and the Federation officials who had been assigned to the case watched politely from the sidelines. She spoke of identity and resilience, of how remaining true to one’s values or changing one’s perspective over time were equally valid approaches to life, as long as they were pursued from a place of confidence. It was perfectly fine, she said, to create an identity all alone, or to enter into a partnership to reach unexplored potential. And there was no shame in separating, she reminded them - taking a glance at the finger she had briefly worn a wedding band on - if it brought forth even richer opportunities. 

“Think about how you can maximize _your_ identity,” she emphasized, spreading her hands comfortably along the ledge of the podium. “You might do that alone, with a partner, with a whole _group_ supporting you. The decision is _yours_ to make, not the Symbiosis Commission’s…”

The old Commission had been all but entirely dismantled - with Ezri collecting a few artifacts from its inception for academic study - but it still scared her to say this so forwardly. The crowd was quiet. 

“They aren’t here to dictate what you should study, or how you should condition your body. From now on, the Council for _Mutual_ Symbiosis is here to support you in pursuing a beneficial Joining for hosts and symbionts alike. My staff and are expanding the program so that any individuals who wish to Join will be given a fair opportunity, based only on their suitability to a symbiotic partner, nothing else. And if you want to talk in the meantime, if you need some help figuring out who you are and what you want to offer… my door is always open. Thank you.”

Following a congratulatory embrace from Lenara, she picked up Dax and Kahn’s communal tank carefully by the handle, and made her way through the crowd. Many humanoids took advantage of her offer immediately, some even holding up their own former symbionts for a chance at communicating with the Captain. Ezri felt like a Prophet, herself, as she waded through the crowd and dispensed seemingly simple advice, words that she had used to guide herself through her youth and young adulthood. 

By the time they finally arrived home and closed their door to visitors - Ezri had meant her _office door_ was always open, anyway - Ezri lowered herself on the sofa with an exhausted sigh. Leather-bound tomes from the Old Commission were scattered on the side tables, opened to random pages of handwritten spot-letters, partially empty mugs of tea and coffee and water left rings of condensation on nearby mats, and… flowers sat in her parcel reception bay?

She blinked and - with an intentionally overdrawn groan - heaved herself from the comfortable chair, making the two-step trip to the bay by the door. 

There were at least eight different types of blossoms all nestled together, not counting the decorative raffia and dried reeds filling in the empty spaces. She wondered what expert hands could put together such beautiful color contrast in such sheer _volume_ , in a limited space, and then the attached card gave her the answer at the same time it occurred in her thoughts. 

The letter was composed by Elim, but the card attached to the bouquet was signed by every member of the household. All in ink, all in their own hand. Even Rali, who chose to represent her name - accurately - in the spot-letters, the same as she bore on her shoulder. 

Even though she wanted to compose her reply right away, she was too tired, letting the warm glow of her successful speech - and the affection of her expansive family - lull her to sleep. She went to bed with the card held softly in her hand, ink smudging against the grain of her fingertips, as if soaking inside to influence her dreams. 

When she awoke the next morning, with Lenara beside her, she was full of inspiration. 

“I’m going to _write back_ ,” she said, in explanation of it all. 

After breakfast, she cleared some space on the tables, shoving aside the history books and collecting the empty mugs for reclamation. Then she found a pen and a perforated scroll of paper, and she set to work. 

Lenara came in, just in time to watch Ezri sigh down at the pen in her left hand. 

“I want it to be from _me_ ,” she said, bringing her right hand up to touch her heart, transferring the faintest smudge of ink from her fingertips to her tunic. 

Lenara - silent, but perfectly clear in her meaning - tipped her head in Ezri’s direction, then further down toward her hand as it trembled over the blank page. Ezri sighed, accepted the suggestion, and traded her pen to her right hand, the one she had used dominantly for all her life until her Joining. 

Her progress was slow and agonizing. 

The letters she produced were shaky and nearly illegible, and came out in alternate dialects; while she intended to write in Trill for her daughter’s enjoyment, she found her intentions superseded by Federation Standard, English, Arabic, Vulcan, _Klingon_ \--

“ _Damn it, Dax!_ ” she cursed both the living symbiont - situated in its tank on the floor - and the mechanical counterpart inside her, which had no concept of whether or not this particular intervention was useful. 

When she succumbed and used her left hand, she found herself able to write full, articulate lines in the languages of her choosing, drawn from her own knowledge and from Dax’s past memories. But it frustrated her, and she threw the pen aside with a huff. 

“This isn’t gonna get me anywhere,” she said. 

Across the room, the pen bounced on the ground and skidded to a stop against Dax’s tank. It turned to orient its head in the direction of the vibration, and Ezri sighed again. 

“It’s not your fault, unless it’s because you’re _here_ ,” she said. “And it’s not like this one knows any better.”

She tossed one hand defeatedly past her chest, where the mechanical symbiont resided, keeping pace for her organs, segmenting memories from Dax’s hosts, but doing nothing to sort feelings. It was a clever enough device - Ezri could not argue with that, nor could she argue for giving it feelings and proper sentience… she was stuck. 

“Well, I’ll just dictate, then,” she said bitterly, “in my own words, if you don’t mind.”

The communication screen on Dax’s tank became speckled with red, as it voiced its support. 

_Garak… and Julian--_

_Forgive me for another recording. I really wanted to_ **_write_ ** _to you, this time, but I can’t get my hand to cooperate._

_And that just makes me wonder: has all of this been a huge mistake?_

_Lenara and I have been reading the historical volumes from the Old Commission’s vaults, and they’re fascinating, but they’re_ **_not_ ** _helping me feel confident. I mean, last night I_ **_literally_ ** _just… completed an upheaval of the whole structure, the cultural ideals we’ve been subscribing to for years. And then, like the absolute worst counselor in the quadrant, I worry that I made the right decision for_ **_myself_ ** _but not for my subjects, who are all depending on me._

_I don’t know. I can’t use a pen in my right hand anymore, apparently. I’ve been so busy just using keyboards and dictation, I haven’t noticed, or I probably would’ve called off a lot of my political speeches._

_Did you know that Trill symbionts_ **_used to_ ** _Join completely temporarily? There’s almost a thousand pages about how the first eight symbionts would wrap themselves around the wrists of any humanoid who came to get them out of their ponds, fearing the hot water was dangerous for any living creature, without understanding the possible ramifications. How could they?_

 _But symbionts would switch from carrier to carrier - sometimes within single households - and the confusion it brought their hosts led to_ **_several_ ** _recorded mental breakdowns. And who knows how many unrecorded ones._

_What have I done?_

_I didn’t have access to any of this information, and I thought I could just… take down the entire structure because my symbiont said so? Am I not_ **_exactly_ ** _the problem I was trying to prevent?_

 _I think the Commission was right all along. You shouldn’t separate after Joining, because it_ **_can_ ** _kill you. Maybe not the bleeding, maybe not immediately… maybe very slowly, from the inside out. I can’t say one sounds any worse than the other._

 _Don’t worry about me; I’m not saying_ **_I’m_ ** _suicidal. But there’s only so much I can do for a whole planet of people who might feel that way._

 _It’s… I’m sorry. It’s not that bleak, really. A lot of them seem_ **_interested_ ** _in the changing dynamics, just unsure of how to implement them. I’m letting my personal frustration cloud my judgement, and that’s no way for me to behave while I’m_ **_working_ ** _, and that’s all I’m going to be doing here for the foreseeable future._

 _This is just a temporary setback, but it’s one I’m sure I can handle - and I know the Federation will help with any struggles the humanoids are having, at least. I’m_ **_not_ ** _advocating for temporary Joining, anyway. I hate when Dax tries to pursue it, but I think it’s more willing to listen to me now. That doesn’t make sense, I know._

_I am not going to be one of those statistics, and I am going to continue leading my people toward Joinings that are truly symbiotic and successful. No big deal… right?_

_I love you. Let’s make plans for a visit soon._

_Ezri_

***

Upon seeing the reply was addressed to both of them, Elim offered it forward for Julian to read as soon as he had finished it, himself. They were seated across from one another at the dining table, with Kelas in the seat between them on one side, and Rali in the other, although she often preferred to scoot her chair closer to Julian’s. This practice gave Elim cause to wonder if _everything_ he had grown up with was changing, and for the better; dining tables were purposely designed to facilitate conversation from close but equal distances. The tables in courtrooms were skewed to favor the officials, but Rali did not move to prosecute anyone. She moved because she wanted to be closer to her father. 

“Your wife loves me,” Elim said, clearly amused and endeared, while Julian finished reading the whole thing in less than a minute. 

“I see that,” he replied. “That’s… hmm. That’s frustrating.”

“What is, dear?”

Confident he was not the subject of this frustration, Elim grinned and reached for the water pitcher they kept at the center of the table, using it to refill his glass. 

“I didn’t think our artificial symbiont would have that much control over Ezri’s decision-making abilities.”

“ _Our_?” said Elim, in Standard, because Julian had consciously - and curiously - chose to use the word himself. “I had nothing to do with it.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean it accusingly. It’s been on my mind a lot lately: ‘where you are tender, you speak your plural.’ And it’s a French author you have to thank for those _misguided words of wisdom_ , by the way. They aren’t mine.”

“I think they’re lovely,” Kelas offered, glancing up from their meal.

Elim followed their eyes back down again, delighting each and every time they finished a meal completely. Their plate was almost empty, and although they ate slowly sometimes, Elim foresaw the conversation continuing enough into the evening for them to catch up. Letting this joy color his voice, Elim summarized his understanding.

“You are, in a single word, uniting the three of us - or in fact _all_ of us in the wider family unit you’ve created - in concern and support for Captain Tigan.”

“Exactly,” Julian said. 

“I seem to recall such collectivism on Cardassia from a purely nationalistic standpoint,” Elim observed, entertained with the debate; perhaps the misuse of their dining table did not matter so much, after all. 

“But this is much better,” Kelas added, words ringing around the spoonful of broth in their mouth. “This isn’t condemning anyone to death.”

“Well…” Julian said, in consideration of the letter. “No, I suppose not. As long as we proceed carefully.”

“I know you would do nothing less,” Elim assured him, but then as he thought about it, he amended his statement. “I’m sorry… _we_ would do nothing less.”

_Ezri,_

_It’s Julian… well, Elim and I both read your letter, and we discussed it, but I didn’t think you needed any more confusion… I mean, if both of us were to try replying at the same time… it might get a bit, er, verbose._

_I know it might not feel like it, right now, but you are doing an_ **_incredible_ ** _job handling all of this. Seeing you pull through at the end there… that’s what I_ **_love_ ** _about you. You know it isn’t hopeless - it’s a temporary setback - and… to be honest… that’s what people like you and I are trained for. This is nothing you can’t handle, especially with the Federation still on hand providing aid._

 _Now, as for your hand… we have several options, and the final decision would of course be yours. Since you wanted to visit anyway - and I imagine you’ll want to take Rali home, at some point this soon - we can solve this at the same time. If you want an assistive device, I’m sure I can duplicate one like Materrin wore while she was Joined. Otherwise, I can inspect your mechanical symbiont - it might need some modification… it is a prototype, after all. Or, of course, if you want to feel in control of this_ **_yourself_ ** _, we can always try physical therapy. I can’t say how severe the problem is without observing you, of course, but I’m_ **_sure_ ** _therapy could be a viable option. It isn’t as if you’re arguing with a living symbiont over it, anymore… I mean that with love, of course._

 _Congratulations, by the way, on your speech! You know you have_ **_our_ ** _unwavering support, and you know you’re doing the right thing. When do you expect to re-open the Old Commission’s facilities? It sounds like some of their artifacts make for interesting study - and thank goodness we’ve seen medical and social technology advance past the point described from your reading. I don’t think you have anything to worry about._

_We’ll take care of your hand. How’s a wintertime visit sound? It’s actually rather temperate, after the Fire… I think you’d enjoy it. At least you didn’t have any atmospheric changes to deal with on Trill, right dear? Only joking… of course we’d love to see you, and I know you’d prefer to avoid the heat of summer. Plus the school term will be ending, then, So Rali and I will both be free of commitments._

_You wouldn’t believe how_ **_proud_ ** _I am of her… enough for both of us, I can assure you. There have only been a few days of instruction, so far - Elim helped to guide me through the terminology, so we could select classes with more emphasis on home life - but she’s doing very well. She’s come a long way from calling every symbiont ‘Dax’... did you know she has memorized both Dax and Kahn’s entire spot patterns? I wouldn’t be surprised if she could draw out her own, as well, and maybe even yours and Lenara’s if she got another look at the two of you. So… naturally, Elim suggested focusing on an Eidetic Track at school, and there is no expectation from the instructor for her to reply verbally - the class itself is almost wholly silent, and the lessons are conducted with visual puzzles to check comprehension. I’m sure she will have a few challenges ahead, but I wanted you to know that_ **_for now_ ** _she is doing_ **_splendidly_ ** _._

 _But, of course, she does miss you. She doesn’t say it, but I can tell. And she misses the symbionts, and she misses being around others who look like she does. She might have an easier time communicating on Trill, and that is going to become vital in the next few years of her development. I mean, it’s vital_ **_now_ ** _, but we’re compensating until you get things back on track on your end._

 _We’re looking forward to seeing you. Let us know if you need anything else in the meantime, but of course we don’t want to interrupt the difficult and rewarding work you’re doing. Isn’t it_ **_incredible_ ** _, being a doctor?_

_XO_

_Julian_

***

Intentionally, Ezri had to postpone replying. She wanted to give all of the advice and offerings the consideration they required, and - coming so genuinely from Julian - they required a _lot_. A few days passed while she thought them over, each in their own time, and then other responsibilities arose from the periphery to distract her. 

Most importantly, she led group counseling sessions with afflicted humanoids and symbionts alike. This was the first, crucial step in establishing a platform for mutual Joinings - discovering what each party lacked on their own and wanted to receive from their prospective partner. She was surprised but not intimidated by the wide range of topics her sessions covered - Joining being compared to addiction, gender identities left unsorted for newly-Disjoined humanoids, repurposing greed and ambition from the pursuit of Joining to the new task of aiding the community. Her subjects always sat in a circle around her, and she tried to absorb every word they said before giving back inspiration in equal amounts. 

When she returned home from these sessions, she would comb through the Commission’s history books for answers. She maintained there was nothing wrong with using structures from the past, as long as she could adapt them to present circumstances. Otherwise such huge structural change would be impossible. Julian was right: no one had burned their planet down. And each time Ezri fortified her people with _knowledge_ , with _history_ which proved the approach had worked _before_ , the frail social structure became stronger and stronger. 

“Did you know our dichogamous cycle was ‘inherited as an evolutionary trait, during early Symbiosis?’” Ezri posed the question one day, her head buried between pages of the tome while Lenara was occupied with a task in the kitchen. 

She was polishing one of Tobin’s tea cups by hand; it was much too precious to be left to the mercy of the reclamation unit. The item was _historic_ , and the sentimental value would be entirely lost if she allowed it to be broken down and remade. 

“I must not have made it to that chapter, yet,” Lenara observed, holding up the cup to the overhead light, confirming the shine her attention had given it. 

“Hmm. Julian would probably have more to say about it than I do--”

“He has more to say about _anything_ than you do--”

“True. But I definitely want to collaborate with him on this. I was looking for something to send home with some of my patients who are questioning their gender, after Disjoining. A little reading material to let them know they’re not alone… there’s a long history of the same uncertainty, and that’s _okay_.”

Lenara gave her a warm smile, and set the cup aside. 

“I love you, you know,” she said. 

“I know,” Ezri replied; the exchange was both spontaneous and thoroughly rehearsed. “I love you, too.”

Then, she got lost in her reading again, her gaze hypnotized by the endless trail of spots. It progressed across pages, weaving down one and up the next, widening and narrowing for emphasis, and she became aware of something visceral and difficult to express. 

Lenara had long since finished with her polishing, and came to sit beside Ezri on the lounge, settling her arm around Ezri’s shoulders for security. When Ezri went still, glancing up with wide eyes, Lenara wondered if something was wrong. 

Ezri’s study had progressed from the outline of dichogamy and into the original reproductive rights exercised by symbionts, and she looked up in time to see Dax, glowing in its tank. Lenara had dimmed the lights in the kitchen, letting Dax’s faint outline travel all the way to the edge of the spot-printed page Ezri was reading from, corner held carefully between two of her fingers as she tried to decide whether to re-read it or turn it over. 

“You _are_ in my head again, aren’t you?” Ezri eventually asked. 

Dax curled up in a teasing gesture - not one of denial. No explanation appeared on its communication screen, so Ezri sighed and turned to look at Lenara. 

“I miss Rali,” Ezri said. 

Lenara held her close and tight, bringing Ezri’s head to rest against her collarbone. 

“Of course you do. _Of course_ you do,” she said gently. 

“It’s… _hard_ ,” Ezri said, drawing her fingers into a fist and then immediately undoing it. “I have my past right over there, my present _here_ with _you_ , but my future’s missing.”

Despite the poor quality of Dax’s vision, Ezri could not help but feel the two of them were sharing a conspiratory gaze, staring each other down, spurring each other into eager but potentially misguided action. It felt a lot like looking at Julian, when they were arranging the details of their marriage and her pregnancy. It felt respectful, affectionate, even _deeply loving_ , and it improved Ezri’s mood immensely. 

“So many of the people I see…” Ezri began, almost breathless, “are worried about _permanence_. They thought Joining was the only way to achieve that, but there are _so many others_ … you can lend your name to charitable work, you can teach and pass down your knowledge, you can take pride in your family, your children… I mean, no matter what has changed in my life - and it’s been a _lot,_ recently - she’s always going to be there for me. That’s a decision I made, and I _miss her now_. I don’t know why it’s all hitting me at once.”

Dax knew why, and it brightened its ventral fin to indicate this. No spots, no transcribed words…

“Yes, you can _definitely_ have that experience,” Ezri assured it. “The Commission never really gave you a chance to settle down, did they? No, I’m sure they didn’t, that’s why we’re in this situation right now.”

“A new symbiont?” Lenara began, voice as steady and calming as the arm she wrapped around Ezri. “Rali would _love_ to see that.”

Ezri exchanged the book for her writing materials, which had taken up residence - haunted and abandoned - on the side table. She did not care what impact Dax had on her mental state, what limited telepathic connection it tried to fall into out of habit, for the comfort and ease of its communication. This was her own. She did not care how her hand fought against her; she had grown up being denied and debated, and she would not tolerate that from anything, anymore, especially not her own body. _Her own_.

The letters were shaky and uneven in size, and the language shifted from Trill-spot to Standard to ancient Cardassian scroll, but she knew she could count on Julian to read her words, regardless of the form they appeared in. That was what she loved best about him - beneath self-importance and showing off, he would make every _possible_ accommodation for anyone who needed him.

_Be_

_There_

_As soon as I_

_Can_


End file.
